Basic Movement
by BadTeenager
Summary: After a tragedy, the women of the Houseman household, and Jake, decide a getaway is much needed. What better place to go then Kellerman's? Unfortunately for one, it holds too many memories, and for the other, too many possibilities. How does one go about getting her depressed mother out of bed, and exploring her father's legacy while coping with the fact that he isn't around?
1. Introduction

I've been toying around with this idea since 2009, I was about 12 then, and after seeing the onscreen trainwreck that was the Dirty Dancing remake, I got frustrated. They had so much room for creativity. Dirty Dancing ended in a way that allowed for almost any sort of sequel to be made and instead they decide to redo the original story and butcher the movie we all know and love when they could be focusing on a new character and acknowledging Patrick Swayze and the legacy of Dirty Dancing. They could have done all this, but they didn't. So I'm going to. Something you should know about my writing style: I imagine scenes. I imagine actors playing my characters, and I imagine a soundtrack. So I'll be posting a cast list as well as inserting song titles incase you want to listen along to what I'm imagining. Really immerse yourself in it. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed imagining it for the past seven years.

I own nothing but the non canon characters and plot. And while this isn't the first chapter, it's what you need to know before reading it.

 **Timeline:** Since 1963, Baby switched her major to Medicine, becoming a doctor to be able to provide aid in the peace corps. By 1977 she had finished all necessary schooling, however she gave birth to her daughter in 1974, and didn't want to leave her family for long, so she has since moved her practices to general surgery and aims to provide care for those who cannot afford it. Since 1963, Johnny has become a choreographer in New Jersey where he and Baby have resided since they moved in together in 1967. They married in 1972. Jake Houseman died in 1984 of a heart attack. Marjorie Houseman has not remarried. Lisa Houseman is divorced and gave birth to a son in 1982, Jake, named after his grandfather. Johnny dies in May of 1990, Huntington's disease. This story is set in early July of 1990 and is about the daughter he left behind.

 _Summary:_ After an untimely death, the women of the Houseman household, and Jake, decide a getaway is much needed. And what better place to go then Kellerman's? Unfortunately for one, it holds too many memories, and for the other, too many possibilities. How does one go about getting her depressed mother out of bed, trying to find her way back to her passion, and exploring her father's legacy when she still can't even cope with the fact that he isn't around anymore? Annie is about to find out.

 _Cast of characters as of Chapter One:  
_ Original cast as Themselves  
Alyson Stoner as Annie  
Alex Bento as Jake Houseman II 


	2. Every Breathe

**Author's Note** : I'm so sorry this took me so long! I've typed up this chapter so many times and I just wasn't happy with it. I decided for a more simple approach and I like this version much better. I'm creating a playlist for this FanFiction, hopefully I'll have a link up by the next chapter as music is very important to this story. Especially Michael Jackson. This one isn't long, but it gets the story going. All mistakes will be fixed, I just wanted to get it out there!

* * *

There are five stages of Mourning. Mourning being grief and loss.

Stage one: Denial and Isolation.

Stage two: Anger.

Stage three: Bargaining.

Stage four: Depression.

Stage five: Acceptance.

Or so some book from barnes and noble told me. It was one of those hard cover ones with some woman looking out through a rainy window on the cover. I used my grey textbook sleeve that I had written the names of my favorites songs on in weird fonts with a black pen to hide the sad image. Couldn't have my grandma or aunt thinking anything.

And right on cue, aunt Lisa glanced at me through the rearview mirror for the 88th time- I'd been keeping count since we merged onto the freeway-so I gave her a smile and satisfied, she turned her eyes back to the road, which they shouldn't have even left, but that's aunt Lisa for you. Her favorite pastime is doing her makeup while she drives. She takes after grams.

I ran a hand down the material of the sleeve, probably where that chick's face would be. Seventeen bucks.

This book cost my seventeen dollars and it all did was tell me what I already knew:

People get real freaking sad after someone dies.

And some of them do really weird things to cope. Everyone, of course, got really sad after grandpa died six years ago. No one suffered more than Grams, though. I remember when we'd go over and visit her, she'd talk to mom, aunt Lisa, Uncle Kevin, and dad like she was fine.

And when I asked her if she was okay, she'd give me a smile and tell me she was fine, too. Then she'd look away, with that small smile of hers still plastered on, and her sad eyes just lost emotion. Looked like the eyes of a dead person.

Now, it seems like she's really fine. She's coped with it and found peace. She says she'll always love him, and I believe her. But I know that when Grandpa died, part of her did, too.

The thought made me glance up at my mother who was in front of me, in the backseat of the station wagon. She leaned her head up against the window and her eyes were closed but I didn't think she was sleeping.

She took after grams, too. Part of her died with my dad.

My eyes drifted over to the other side of the backseat, the reason I had to sit in the trunk, with all of the luggage— it actually wasn't too bad, quite roomy except for when aunt Lisa decided she liked sharp turns, then it was pretty painful — Jake. Blissfully asleep and probably drooling.

He wasn't all that sad when Grandpa died on account of he was two. He's turning eight soon, and sometimes I wondered if he understood what happened to my dad. He was there at his funeral or wake, or whatever. He knew he wasn't coming back. But does he know he's dead?

Sometimes I was tempted to ask him, but I don't want to ruin his innocence. Or maybe I was just jealous. I wish I could go back to being naive.

I yanked my headphones down and was immediately assaulted with my aunt and grandmother's terrible singing voices. "How much longer?"

Aunt Lisa sang a couple more lines to a song I didn't care about before answering, "Five minutes. Maybe less. Why? Do you still have to pee?"

No. My bladder urge had faded but I'm sure the UTI I probably had from this seven hour car ride wouldn't be going anywhere.

"I want to stretch my legs." Is all I said, watching the trees slowly give away to a more community like setting.

And soon that gave way to mostly watching old people, doing various activities on different parts of the grounds we passed.

Finally, Aunt Lisa pulled into a parking space and I wasted no time in shoving the luggage out of my way to get to the trunk door handle and push it open, practically falling right out.

"Oh, yes." I hummed, stretching every single limb until I heard the telltale popping sound that would have my grandmother saying—

"Annie, don't do that, you're going to get arthritis."

My family always know when to come in on time.

"That's the plan, grams. That's the plan."

"And that's not funny." She said as she closed the passenger door. It freaked in resistance but eventually gave away. "Oh, it's just as lovely as I remember."

I let my eyes roam over the area. It was lovely, if you were my grandma's age. I could practically smell the prunes and old people from where I stood. I was exaggerating, but still.

It was very lackluster. It may have been lovely in its prime, but in the 80's—90's, can't forget i'ts 1990–it was very boring looking. Looked like some church event that would last weeks rather than hours and I found my face screwing up at the thought.

"Annie, your face is going to get stuck like that." Aunt Lisa scolded me, walking over to pull the one bag that hasn't fallen out with me over her shoulder. Her makeup bag. Of course. "What boy is going to want to kiss that face? Or wake up to it for the rest of his life?"

"Guess I get to be alone then." I shrugged my shoulders, shifting my weight from foot to foot. "Speaking of boys, you might want to wake your son up. I hear people don't bode over well with parents leaving kids in cars alone."

Her eyes widened at the mention of Jake, and she glanced around as if he'd magically appear out of thin air before hurrying over to the backseat door. "Jake, wake up, sweetheart. Look, we're here!"

Leaning over, I could just make out the top of Jake's head slowly shaking. But my attention wasn't on him for long because I remembered that he wasn't in the car alone. My mom was still in the same position she'd been in when she'd dragged herself to the car, only this time her eyes were open and she was staring out the window. Just as I suspected, they had that empty look in them. Like no one was even there.

Suddenly, Kellerman's wasn't so boring to me anymore as I remembered the importance of this place when it came to my mom and dad, and even my grandpa. I was wrong in the sense that it'd be a bland church event that stretched too long — we weren't religious, anyways — but I was right in the sense that it might be some type of sanctuary. Not for me, but for my mom.

An older gentleman came over to greet us, my grandmother was the one he was talking directly to, but I ignored him anyways and made my way over to my mom's window, ducking down to grin into it. "Look who decided to wake up!"

She didn't even so much as blink so I opened the door for her.

"C'mon, Mom. Stretch your legs! The fresh air will do you good." She didn't say anything or move for a few moments, almost like she didn't hear me.

"Mom?" I tried again, my hand moving up to rest on her shoulder. Slowly, she dragged her eyes to my face, just staring at me.

 _And the way she looked at me._

For just a second, I could see the emotion.

I could see all the hurt, I could see all the pain, and the vulnerability before she seemed to snap out of it, nodding once very slowly and easing out of the car.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she clung to me. The old man seemed to notice us then. "Ah, Francis! It's a pleasure to see you again." And then he seemed to notice me because he added, "This must be Roseanna! My, my, my! She almost looks just like you! If it weren't for the hints of Mr. Castle poking through, I would have mistaken her for your twin!"

At the mention of my dad, my grandmother, my aunt, and I glared at him. My mother simply glanced away, the dead eyes back again.

"Oh, forgive me. I almost forgot," Must be nice. "I'm very sorry for your loss. Please, let me show you to your cabin."

I still had no idea who he was, but he had two guys come over to help us with our luggage. Jake insisted on carrying his backpack, as if it were a big deal, and I had my hands full with my mom so actually they took all the luggage.

As we walked the path, I couldn't help but worry about my mom's reaction to someone mentioning my dad. Would it always be like this? Would he just become something we couldn't talk about? At that thought, an empty, gaping hole feeling settled in my stomach. Kellerman's was where her parents had met, where they had fallen in love. Hell, this place was part Johnny Castle. If her mom couldn't handle the mention of his name, how on earth would she survive the memories?


End file.
